Vincit Qui Se Vincit
by Anhalir
Summary: "Perceptions can be your enemy or your ally, Alec. You have to learn how to play them to your advantage." Alexander Lightwood is off to college, and like every dramatic teenager, has a secret he's trying to hide. Only, he's not hiding it to protect himself... he thinks. Ever in the public eye he's going to have to get a handle on this especially with a new, hot TA to stare at.


**So I know that I told you all I was going to post this a while ago, and for that I am sorry. I was going to post it and decided to reread it one more time… and hated it. I scrapped the whole thing and started over. I still have some one shots I want to write, and I am not sure how quickly this is going to flow. My life outside of writing is a little hectic, but I hope to have more time to write for a little while. I will be jobless, but after a shocking turn of events I have things to keep me preoccupied as I job hunt. I am going to share because I am excited, so if this annoys any of you I am sorry. This will be the only time I mention it. The boy, after seven long and wonderful years, asked me a question and I said "yes"! So now I leave you with the prologue. I hope it's not too dry, and that people take interest. As always I do not own most of these characters, they are Miss Cassie Clare's. The story, however, is mine! **

Vincit Qui Se Vincit Prologue

(Vincit Qui Se Vincit translates to: "He conquers who conquers himself")

"RAVEN leaving OLYMPIA, en route to SCHOOLHOUSE. ETA: 2045."

Alec sighed imperceptibly as he listened to the radio chatter buzzing about him. The hallway, which was usually vast and drafty, was humid and sticky. Or, that was just how Alec felt as he walked: stifled, suffocated, and surrounded by a small convoy. The number he was wearing probably didn't help that, though. Fingers lifted to tug at his too tight collar of their own volition before smoothing down the front of his Italian crafted shirt. The bow tie adjusted slightly but not enough to make him feel any less shackled by it, nor did the tension around his chest ease. The story went that the tuxedo had been "tailored". It was supposed to fit him perfectly, and though everyone around him agreed with this statement he thought it was utter bullshit.

"Right this way, Sir. Your car is waiting."

Nodding, Alec followed the direction of the light pressure on his shoulder. It was startling to think how accustomed he had grown to being directed every which way, guided to a destination, and shielded from the outside world. He couldn't wait until all this fuss was over with. A mental count reminded him then that he just had eleven more months, and just three more months until he could at least distance himself from the cacophony.

"Check you in your penguin suit." Jace gibed as he came down a set of stairs. Alec was instantaneously jealous of him dressed casually and unconcerned about his evening's events. It left him wondering what was on the other Lightwood children's agendas. He was flying solo tonight, and he especially hated going to these things alone.

Alec pulled on the lapels of his coat feeling them slide silkily through his grip. "You have your own penguin suit upstairs. You should throw it on and join me." It was a pitiful plea that he was certain made him look weak, but at the moment he couldn't care. He hated parties. They were impossible to navigate because he had such a terrible time engaging others in conversation, or (god forbid) he did something insulting earning the derision of their mother and who knows how many other people.

"Nah, I think not. She wants you, not me." That was completely untrue. Jace was everyone's favorite. He was gorgeous (yes, he said gorgeous), charismatic, amiable and good with words. Not to mention, Jace gave a quite literal interpretation of "golden child": golden hair, golden eyes, golden skin… and every bit a member of the family despite being clearly adopted. Even Izzy and Max looked up to him instead of Alec. It hurt, but he understood. There was nothing extraordinary about Alec. His emotions must have been playing across his face as Jace came up to straighten his already impeccable jacket. "Stop. She specifically asked for you."

"Sir. The time."

Blue and Golden eyes turned to the man in the dark suit one sullen the other impatient. "Right. I'm sorry Jesse." Alec gave Jace a solid pat on the shoulder, distracting him only mildly from the staring contest he was having. As perfect as Jace was, he had a thing about authority figures, and being interrupted. "I'll catch up with you later, Jace." Leaving his brother behind, Alec followed Jesse and the rest of the convoy down the stairs and out the side door. Seriously, what was the point of a front door if you never use it? A black sedan idled quietly in the drive, backdoor held open by yet another dark suited man. He ducked into it with a quiet "Thank you" and braced for the puff of air that came with the door closing. There was no going back, now. Leaning his head against the back of his seat, Alec closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the evening to come.

Doors opened on the front of the car as Jesse and another agent, Benson he thought, sidled into the front seats. It made Alec wonder if he'd ever be able to drive himself anywhere, someday. Getting his license was pretty much pointless as he was never allowed to leave without an escort. Fuck security measures. "Are you seat belted in, Sir?"

Automatically, a hand reached up the side of the car, and groped for the contraption as a groaned "no" escaped him. It wasn't Jesse's fault. He knew that, but a childish part of him couldn't help but mouth silently, sarcastically as the over used drivel escaped the agent's mouth. _Sorry, Sir. Protocol dictates the car can't move until you're safe and secured. _Just three more months, he counted, until he was up the coastline and unable to participate in social engagements. The click of the belt locking into place was all the prompting Jesse needed as the car slowly edged out of the drive behind another. Alec was also sure that if he looked behind him, yet another car would be poised to leave. All this fuss just so he could go to a damn dinner party with his mother. "So tell me, Agent Phillips, when will we discuss arrangements for Cambridge?"

Jesse wrinkled his nose at the formal address. "When the plans are finalized. The Boss still has to look over them and approve them, and who knows how long that will take." The candid reply made him chuckle. It was true; his mother was very critical, precise, and she wasn't just going to agree with whatever was placed on her desk. She'd prefer it if he couldn't sneeze without her knowing. "Don't worry, Alec. We'll do everything we can to not crowd your space."

A relieved breath escaped him. "Thanks, Jesse."

The rest of the ride was silent much to Alec's liking. His security detail knew well that he was the quiet one in the family, the recluse, and after three years of arguing and challenging their rules they had grown to respect and accommodate that. He didn't want them too close. He didn't want them to see. Alec had learned early in life how to hold his cards close to his chest – and having people constantly surrounding him was hindering that ability. Everyone had secrets, but for some incomprehensible reason everyone wanted to know his. Unfortunately… that was a very big problem. That sounds overdramatic, but Alec wasn't one for theatrics. The media had had many a field day with Izzy and Jace: underage drinking, drag racing (how Jace managed that one with no car of his own and a security detail was beyond him), intrigues, almost any rule that didn't invoke immediate danger they'd broken it. One would think reporters had seen it all, but they were very wrong because despite the growing strength of the LGBT community never once did the POTUS have direct relation to said community. POTUS… The fucking President of the United States, as republican as can be, had a gay son, and absolutely no one could know.

The sun was setting, and the street lights began to flicker on. Jace in all his literary glory would go on about how it was a representation of change, or wax poetic. Light to dark, noise to silence. What kind of changes where in his future? Clouds loomed on the horizon. It looked like it might rain.

Alec accepted that he may not be able to hold this secret in forever. In all honesty, he was surprised he'd been able to hold onto it this long. When he first came to the realization he was attracted to men, he had been young. He didn't remember how old exactly, but he did remember knowing that if he admitted it aloud bad things would happen. So he didn't say anything, isolated himself, and made up excuses when he was questioned about his lack of social life. He didn't need a social life. Jace and Izzy were enough due partly to the fact that they knew. Like he said, he hadn't anticipated keeping it secret forever. But Jace and Isabelle knew him through and through. His parents rarely had time enough between them for the kids. So needless to say, when his mother went on the campaign trail, things were easier simply because he truly did not have time for such frivolities. Now, he just had to wait until she was out of office. The media would still follow them and just maybe he'd be able to keep it hidden, but without being in the spotlight any news they produced would dwindle rapidly. That was the nature of things. When one wasn't important, one got one's fifteen minutes and then no one cared. God, he couldn't wait for no one to care. It wasn't that he had a reason to be free of his constraints. Under the microscope, he had absolutely no time to seek out a partner, and he sure as hell wasn't going to try. He accepted and was satisfied to grow old alone. He might not always be happy, but he would content himself with keeping his family safe of his transgressions and ill repute.

The car stopped at a security checkpoint. He only a few more minutes until he met with his mother, and suffered through yet another party. Isabelle would be angry with him for this train of thought. She wanted him happy; to be who he was supposed to be. It was an easy expectation for her to have simply because she didn't understand what it meant. While Robert and Maryse Lightwood disapproved of many of the things their daughter did, it wasn't grounds for banishment. They had become commonplace, and while their parents may roll their eyes at her antics she'd be forgiven because everyone else had those problems with their children, too (and Isabelle was smart enough to not have an unplanned pregnancy, thank god). It was a "He without sin cast the first stone" sort of thing. However, homosexuality was still a hot issue, especially for his mother's party. His parents would be horrified, and while they might pretend to not exile him, actions would speak louder than words. He'd lose any sort of kinship he had with his father, and he'd probably never be allowed to see Max. Jace and Isabelle would tell him to fight it but that would just be a nightmare; too much attention and too much emotional exhaustion. He'd rather live his life a recluse and close to his family. He'd just now gotten to a point of receiving praise from their mother. Family was important, and if it meant a small sacrifice on his part, then so be it. Ugh, why did his mother have to go into politics?

Alec felt himself move forward in his seat slight before the car gave a small shiver and stopped. "RAVEN arrived at SCHOOLHOUSE. ETA on LILY?" Jesse paused with his finger on his ear piece, listening to the chatter on the other end. Alec took a moment to check his watch: 8:45 pm on the dot. Jesse was ever punctual. An almost indiscernible sigh escaped the man in the driver seat. Undoubtedly, he had just been informed Alec's mother was running late. Agent Phillips did not like when things didn't go according to plan, and punctuality was always a part of the plan. He met Alec's eyes in the review mirror. "Your mother is running late."

"As per usual." Alec commented snidely.

"Come off it. She'll be here in ten." Benson made a noise in the back of his throat. He often did when he thought Jesse was being too informal, too friendly with their young charge. Yes it was their job to be his shadow, and sometimes familiarity made one too comfortable and quick to let protocol slide. However, Jesse was nice, cordial, understanding, and in charge, and Benson could fuck off for all he was concerned. "You can too, Tyler. I know it's a late night, but that's the job."

Alec's door swung open to the rest of his convoy, and so with resignation he unbuckled himself and got out of the car. It was time to "party". Jesse had chosen a side entrance for security reasons also known as "overprotectiveness", and they needed to clear out before his mother arrived. He would be meeting her in the foyer; more PR there and a little PR never hurt anyone (as he was told, repeatedly). So, with growing trepidation for the night to come, Alec made his way to wait for her in the appropriate location. It took all of ten seconds for the cameras to start in just at the mere glimpse of him causing his heart to thrum wildly in his neck. Reporters always made him wary. They had a way of badgering one into admitting things which was, for obvious reasons, the one thing he always tried to avoid. Just a couple more months, and he'd be off to college, and he couldn't wait. It was going to be as close to normal as he was ever going to get, and getting away from the bureaucracy, the drama, and the expectations was tempting, exhilarating.

Minutes passed in silence, Alec's mind lost in a world far away from the one he lived in. One where he could be who he wanted to be, and didn't get apoplectic because a camera wouldn't get out of his face. "Alexander," Maryse's voice was uncommonly sweet, and brought him spinning around on his heel. It wasn't that she was usually terse, but that she was usually too busy and practical for such superficialities. She gave instructions and she intended them to be completed with no questions asked. One didn't need to lay it on thick for that. But then the flashing lights blinded him, and the purpose was clear. Photo-op. She smiled largely, so practiced it was difficult to tell it wasn't real, and reached up to adjust his tie: a mother fretting over her child. What person in America wouldn't want that as president, right? A smile spread thin across his lips, and he hated himself for enjoying the affection despite knowing its fallaciousness. "You look particularly handsome this evening. Though, you could do with a haircut." Maryse brushed his hair out of his eyes to accompany the statement.

"I like my hair." It was a simple statement that left no room for argument. Be that as it may, he watched as the corners of his mother's mouth tighten imperceptibly. Maryse Lightwood did not like being argued with especially by her children. He'd hear about it again in a week, and every week to follow until he cut it.

Maryse defiantly tilted her nose up ever so slightly, and Alec could practically hear her say: "We'll see about that." They would. She could forcibly change his clothes, rap his knuckles, and chide him to stand up straight all to improve her 'image', but he refused to change his hair. It was the one veil he had left to hide his true self from the world; from her. "Be my escort tonight? I only have a few weeks to have you to myself before you go." Right, like there was really going to be a lot of room in her schedule for him to fit into, but the statement hadn't really been for him. In public, and it private, it would never be about him, but for some incomprehensible reason just once he wanted it to be.

A pit settled in his stomach causing it to churn and protest violently as he witnessed the delusion of his desires play right into his mother's hand. He held an arm out to her wordlessly so that she may grasp the crook of his elbow and preened unwittingly his mother draped her arm in his smiling brightly. What a good little boy. Maybe he should roll over like a dog and present his underbelly in a display of submissiveness next time. He rarely felt more at war with himself than the time he was with his mother. He wanted her approval, her love, like he was a strung out junky and they were his next fix. He knew it wasn't real. That it wouldn't solve the problem, but it sure has hell made him feel better about himself in the moment. Even though he knew on a mental and emotional level that it would only make things worse, he couldn't stop himself. It would be too difficult, and too painful.

A low rumble of calls erupted behind them as mother and son walked deeper into the hall which only intensified as his mother turned her chin over her shoulder and flashed them a winning smile. If it hadn't been for the tight squeeze she gave his arm in tandem, Alec would have felt like nothing but a prop in her extravagant world. Used, abused, and only a part of the production to enhance the player. She really should have brought Jace. He played the part better, and hurt him less than it would any of the other children. Alec could only wish to be so aloof, removed. Instead, his ever present compulsion for word vomit overtook him. "Jesse says you haven't approved the plans for school, yet." Great, why don't you tell her what you really think, Alec?

Maryse gave him a puzzled look before slowly wrapping her free hand around his bicep, and he mentally wondered if he felt as weak to her as he truly was. "Agent Phillips is correct, I have not. I have questions, concerns that need to be addressed before I will even consider approving them."

"Will you even have time before August gets here?" Damn. Word. Vomit.

His mother stilled and turned a look on him that was equal parts affronted and annoyed. "They will be completed with ample time, Alexander. Your safety, the safety of all my children, is my number one concern. Are we clear?"

Alec couldn't help but wonder who she was trying to convince just then. There were no cameras, and the agents had no doubts what fell where in her laundry list of priorities. Or, perhaps he was meant to have been cowed by her ferocity maybe even re-assured. Either way, it was lost on him, and for that reason alone he was glad she had taken him instead of Isabelle or Max. It was an old wound that though it never fully healed properly only bugged him from time to time festering with infection. Isabelle and Max would have believed such lies, and would have been sliced open anew. She was beyond hurting him in that manner ever again. So, he inclined his head and gave her a satisfactory nod. "Yes, Mother."

Satisfied, she smiled at him again. A slight upturning of her lips the only indication which meant this one was true. His heart ached. Okay, so maybe that old festering wound could be opened and bled of its infection. It would still never heal right. Her hand left his arm, and reached smoothing his black tresses from his face and pressing where they had rested. The warmth of the hand that cupped his cheek suffused his skin sending him reeling back into his memories to a time long ago when she'd tuck him in at night and sung French lullabies to him. Memories so old they were nearly covered in an inch of dust.

"Madam President." A hand tapped her shoulder. "The press conference is due to start in three minutes."

And just like that, the moment was gone. "Thank you, Dunn." A chill replaced the heat of her at his side, and he watched as she walked away.

Half a minute later, shock pervaded his every thought. His voice was shrill in his own ears. "Press Conference?" He had thought they left the press outside, where they should be.

Benignly, she nodded. "Of course. I am going to give an address about the benefit. Short and sweet."

Dread pumped through his veins for reasons he couldn't comprehend. Yes, he hated the reporters, but his mother gave speeches all the time. This fright was only because he had been caught unawares. That was all. Alec was good about anticipating things probably due to the fact that unlike his siblings he was very type A. He liked plans, checklists, and the like. This had just not been on his radar and the fact that he wasn't prepared for it (yes, he didn't have to really participate just stand there) was what unsettled him.

"Alec?" Snapping to the present, Alec met Jesse's eyes. "Come this way." Yet again, Alec found himself being directed here and there like a ship in a turbulent sea. The hallway teed abruptly. A velvet rope, and a line of secret service agents, separated them from the merciless mob. President Lightwood was all smiles, straight backed, and professional as she greeted the throng of people, and like most times before Alec zoned out. It was a symptom of too many inane speeches: to look engaged while being elsewhere. All the Lightwood children, Max included, had developed this skill long ago. It also was great for lying low in class, but he wouldn't be thinking about that for another three months.

"Madam President!"

"President Lightwood, one question!"

"Maryse! Maryse! Over here!"

Speeches, at least, gave him an easy way of identify when they were finished; the uproar of people vying for his mother's attention, or a raucous round of applause. One reporter's calls out yelled the rest undeterred by the lack of recognition for his question. "Madam President. America wants to know. Are you running for re-election?" Alec froze rigidly a sudden statue added to the scenery. Why, oh why, had he never considered this possibility? Foolish, stupid, Alec. He allowed himself to get caught up in the blissful thought that his personal hell was almost over, and turned a blind eye to the prospect that he would have to endure four more years. Four. More. God forsaken years. He eagle eyed his mother as she gave pause. She wasn't actually considering this wayward question, was she? No, this wasn't that type of press conference. That was an announcement for a different time, and he prayed to whatever gods were watching over them that her answer was "No".

Maryse Lightwood pursed her lips thoughtfully. Oh God, no. No, no, no, no… no. "After an incredibly long and laborious consideration for my family, my country, and conversations with my family and advisors," Bull shit. "I can safely say that, as long as the people will have me, I will be running for re-election next year. Be safe. God Bless, and have a wonderful evening."

Alexander fish mouthed… Oh shit.

**So what do you all think? I know the subject matter is not the most interesting, but I promise that I am going to do everything that I can to keep the politics out. It's just information in the periphery that directs the characters' actions. I hope to have it updated soon, especially if people are interested. Let me hear your thoughts!**


End file.
